Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
FYNN
VALERIE BERDARD IS in my apartment.
Looking fucking gorgeous as ever, propped against the railing of my balcony in a dress that is probably perfectly sensible, but on her looks positively sinful. It hugs every curve on her body and dips low enough the swell of her impeccable tits is on full display. Even the fucking shoes she’s wearing drag my mind to the gutter because I can imagine the elegant heels braced on my shoulders, her toes curling inside them as I fuck her.
I initially thought the consuming reaction I had to her was from months of complete celibacy, but looking at her now, I’m not so sure. Something tells me I could have taken her last night and this morning and still consider having her again right on that fucking balcony. Not just because of the way she looks and how responsive she is to my touch. But also because, even though I know I’m bad for her, I can’t help myself from craving her sweetness. Her softness .
That bloody laugh that reaches every part of me.
Valerie holds my gaze for a few long seconds before her shoulders lift on a deep breath. Then she’s stepping from the balcony into my living room, eyes fused to mine. As if she finds it just as impossible to look away as I do.
But as beautiful as the sight is, it doesn’t change anything. “What are you doing here?”
Her dark brows pull together as she comes closer. “Why are you wet?”
“I—” I glance down at the front of my shirt where her eyes are locked onto the soaked fabric sticking to my body like a second skin.
I don’t want to tell her what happened. Don’t want to have to think about yet another example of why she should not be here. Because damned if I don’t want her here anyway.
“Did someone do this to you?” Her voice is barely a whisper as she reaches me.
“It doesn’t matter.” I wish it was the truth. I wish it didn’t matter that a woman I used to consider a friend thought I deserved an entire glass of ice water to the face because of a woman she doesn’t even like. But it does matter. It matters even more to me now than it did a week ago. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why?” Her tone is sharp, eyes flashing when they finally come back to meet mine. “Because someone might see me?”
“Yes.” I begin unbuttoning my shirt, the wet fabric chapping my skin almost as much as it does my pride. It takes everything I have to turn away, but I need to get as far from Valerie as I can. There’s no way I can make myself send her away while the midnight floral scent of her skin tickles my nose. I’m not that strong.
Yanking my shirt open and free from the waistband of my trousers, I begin walking toward my bedroom but stop short, the monstrosity occupying the kitchen counter catching my attention. “Did you bring flowers here?”
She doesn’t respond.
I turn to face her.
Valerie’s honey eyes drop to my bare chest, a pretty pink flush spreading down her neck and across her collarbone.
“Valerie?”
Her gaze snaps to my face. “Yes? What?”
I almost smirk, but it doesn’t matter that she finds me attractive any more than it doesn’t matter that I find her fucking irresistible. “Where did the flowers come from?”
“Oh.” She licks her full lips, reminding me I’ve never properly kissed her.
And never will.
Valerie shakes her head a little before finally turning to the gargantuan arrangement. “The flowers are from you.”
“From me.” Realization dawns. “These are the flowers I sent you?” Fucking Arny. The damn things look nothing like break-up flowers. They look like the flowers a man sends a woman he has every intention of making fall in love with him. Or at the very least fall into bed with him. And I’m not planning on either of those things. No matter how much I wish I could.
Turning my attention back to Valerie, I abandon my plans of retreat, moving back her way as the situation racks up more questions than answers. “Why are they here?”
Her chin barely lifts as she stares me down, looking slightly offended. “Because you didn’t sign the card yourself.” She slides one hand into a pocket hidden in the seam of her dress, drawing my gaze to where it cuts dangerously low over her perfect tits. Tits I desperately wish I could be working my way toward tasting.
She holds a small rectangle between us, lifting her brows as if it explains her appearance inside my apartment. Her knowing where my apartment is at all for that matter.
I step forward and take the card from her hand, letting my fingers brush hers just a little. I know what the card says. I’m the one who told Arny what to put on—
I’m sorry.
Fynn
Fucking Arny. Three words I told him to write, and it would figure he’d leave the most important one off.
“I think the least you could have done was sign the card yourself.” Valerie’s voice is stronger than it was a second ago, and when I glance up her eyes are fixed on my face.
I should have signed the card myself. Then it would have had the entire message I meant to give Valerie, and she wouldn’t be standing here in the middle of my apartment staring at me with those damn whiskey eyes, smelling like dark promises and sin.
If I’d signed that card myself I would be here alone. Wishing she could be here with me.
I toss the card onto the counter beside the behemoth of a flower arrangement that would make most women swoon. Not Valerie Berdard. She’s pissed I didn’t sign the note myself. Angry enough to heft flowers that weigh half as much as she does across town.
I drop my soaked shirt onto the counter, squinting at the height of the stems. There’s no way these things would fit in anything besides a delivery van. I lift the glass vase, meeting Valerie’s eyes over my shoulder. “Did you carry these all the way here?”
Her spine straightens. “How else would I get them here?”
I set the vase down, letting out a long breath as I try to keep my shit. “You shouldn’t have come here at all.” I grab my shirt and head to the bedroom. “I’m not good for you, Valerie.”
“Why? Because of Jessica?”
Her question stops me in my tracks. I can’t make myself look at her as a shame I didn’t earn drags through me. I don’t want Valerie to see it. To see me as what they say I am.
“Is it true?” Her voice is closer, softer.
I shake my head. “No. It’s not.”
“Okay then.”
Her immediate acceptance sends me turning to face her. “Okay then? That’s all it takes for you to believe me?”
Valerie lifts her shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I?”
The old anger I’ve been carrying eats its way back in. “Why would you? Everyone else believes it.”
Valerie steps in closer, the flowy fabric of her dress barely brushing my trousers. “I don’t know Jessica.” Her eyes move over my face, seeing more than I care to think about. “But I know you, Fynn Hadaway.”
“You don’t know me at all.” It’s a bitter truth. One I intend to maintain.
“I know you have friends willing to go to great lengths to help you when you won’t help yourself.” She eyes the flowers Arny arranged before bringing her gaze back to mine. “I know you’re polite and kind and thoughtful.” Her lips twist into a wry smile. “With the exception of your little vanishing act yesterday.”
“I’m sorry.” The apology rushes out, more true today than it was yesterday. “I shouldn’t have left you.”
“No. You shouldn’t have.” She straightens. “But I’m willing to get over it.”
A tiny grain of an emotion I thought left me long ago takes hold, trying to get footing in the pit of my cold, desperately lonely soul. But I can’t let it. “It doesn’t matter what you’re willing to get over, Valerie. It won’t change the fact that I’m not going to let you drag yourself through the dirt with me.”
Her eyes narrow. “ Let me?”
I give her a single nod. “Let you.”
Valerie’s eyes flash and her nostrils flare as she steps closer, her body barely a whisper from mine. “Let me tell you something, Fynn Hadaway.” One finger comes out to stab at my bare chest. “No one tells me what to do—” I think she’s going to continue, but Valerie’s mouth clamps shut for a second before she sucks in a quick breath and repeats herself. “No one tells me what to do.”
She faces me down, a woman with an unbreakable spine and power she yields with careful precision. I have no doubt it’s how she got into my apartment today. Brains and beauty are a dangerous combination. One most men don’t see coming even after it brings them to their knees.
But I see it. And I would still love nothing more than to go to my knees for this woman. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”
Her eyes widen. “You don’t?”
Her reaction makes me pause. It’s almost as if she’s shocked I see her for what she is. “No.” I catch a bit of her dark hair between my fingers, allowing myself this small touch. “I can’t imagine anyone with half a brain would ever stand in your way.”
I stare at the silky strand as I slip it between my fingers, wishing I could have just a little more of her. A tiny taste of her mouth. A single inhale against her skin. But I don’t trust myself with this woman. Not when I know I need to let her go. Let her find a man she can be proud to stand beside.
The thought sends a hot rush of jealousy coursing through my veins. The image of someone else at her side. Holding her. Kissing her. Fucking her.
When I can’t .
Her soft gasp is the only thing that makes me realize what I’ve done. And even then it’s too late.
Because Valerie Berdard is already pressed against me, my arms pulling her soft body tight against mine.
Her hands are already shoved into my hair.
And my mouth is already on hers, swallowing down that soft gasp in the kind of kiss I shouldn’t be giving her. But she tastes so fucking good. Her lips feel so damn soft and sweet as they slide against mine. Her body fits to mine so perfectly, all soft curves and warm, smooth skin.
“You shouldn’t have come here.” I can barely growl the words out against her mouth. I’ve started something I’m not sure I know how to stop. Not sure I want to.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” Her fingers fist tight in my hair, keeping me from pulling back even if I could. She pushes against me, knocking us back a few steps until my back hits the living room wall. “You’re not the boss of me either, Fynn Hadaway.” Her lips are back against mine and I have nowhere to go. No way out.
Thank God.
“Christ you’re perfect.” Lacing my fingers in her thick hair, I slide them through the long strands as I drag my mouth down the delicate column of her neck. “Where did you come from, Valerie Berdard?”
She barely stiffens in my arms, the soft, willing woman I was holding disappearing in an instant.
I straighten, staring down into the whiskey eyes I could drown in. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It’s barely a whisper.
“Don’t lie to me, Valerie. ”
She takes a quick breath. “I didn’t mean to kiss you like that.”
The admission stings. “Do you regret it?”
Her fingers come up to brush across her lips as she shakes her head. “No.”
I keep my hold on her, unwilling to lose the feel of her against me. “Why are you here, Val?”
Her lips curve into a slow smile. “No one calls me Val.”
She dodges my question, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind anything she does. Especially when she’s looking at me the way she is now. Like I’m everything she wants. “You don’t like it?”
“I like it when you say it.” Reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind one ear, her eyes fall from mine. She takes a slow, oddly shaky breath. “And I came here to make a proposition.”
I can think of about a million propositions I would love for her to make, and all of them involve way more than the kissing she didn’t mean to do. “What kind of proposition?”
“We both have problems we’re dealing with.” Her eyes come back to mine. “And I think we can help each other make those problems go away.”
My brows lift in surprise. This is the first I’ve heard of Valerie having problems, but now I’m wondering if those problems are what brought her to me in the first place, and it’s disappointing as hell. “Is that what this has been about from the beginning?” I release her, the possibility stinging my pride and crushing my hopes .
“It is why I was at the bar waiting for you.” She stands her ground, refusing to look appropriately guilty. “But I genuinely like you. I sincerely want to help you because I know you don’t deserve what’s happened.” Her cheeks barely flush. “And you’re the only man I can see myself making this deal with.”
An hour ago I might have been flattered by that, but not now. Now all the caution I felt when Valerie first entered my life is back and I’m again questioning whose side she’s on in all this. “And what, exactly, is this deal you want to make?” I’m not taking it, whatever it is, but I am curious to know what she wants from me.
And that’s all this is. Valerie wants something from me.
Her hands twist in front of her and she hesitates.
“Spit it out. You’ve gone to great lengths to get here, Valerie. Don’t get shy now.” My tone is harsh and she flinches. I don’t care.
I don’t.
“Is it money? You want money?” I start to guess because I can’t stand it. The waiting. “Or maybe you’re hoping I’ll offer up my connections for your use?” I step closer, crowding her, my anger flaring hotter with each passing second. “Or maybe this is all just an elaborate plan to take me down further.” I laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “If that’s the case, I’ve got news for you, I can’t get any fecking lower.”
Valerie’s head tips back as if I’ve slapped her. “I’m not trying to take you down.” Her sweet face twists into what might almost be a scowl. “I told you. I want to help you.”
“You want to help me.” I scoff. “Right.” I meet her glare. “And how do you plan on accomplishing that?”
She holds my gaze, refusing to back down. “By marrying you.”